Without much of a thought, Clarkie took off his old shirt (the one dirty, bloodied, torn and sweat soaked) and threw it to the side before tugging on the cleaner shirt. He made his way to the driver's side door and got inside. Truth be told, now that he'd had a little to eat and something clean(er) to wear, he was feeling a bit better.

He started the car and waited for Arthur to get in. "If you need to stop, let me know, yeah?" Though, he had the uncanny feeling that Arthur wouldn't say anything. Otherwise, they still had a nice drive ahead of them before they reached Casablanca where they could, hopefully, get lost and take the first flight out.